


Phoenix

by deepinthemeadow5150



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Angst, District 12, F/M, Fluff, Other, Post Mockingjay, Recovery, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-30
Updated: 2014-01-30
Packaged: 2018-01-10 13:57:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 7,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1160500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deepinthemeadow5150/pseuds/deepinthemeadow5150
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peeta and Katniss are back in 12 after the Rebellion. What happens now that they are no longer in Panem's eye? How do they recover? The star-crossed lovers face new challenges and beginnings that they never thought they'd have to face. Brings back some characters and changes a few occurrences from Mockingjay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First attempt at a THG fic from last year. Debating whether to continue it or not, so feel free to let me know if I should xD.

     Wind blows over the grass and flowers. Birdsong fills the air. I don't listen close enough to know what kind. I don't want to know. I sit in the meadow, breathing in the late-spring air. I try to keep my mind clear, the memories out. Focusing my gaze, I study every minute detail of a clover flower. I fill my mind with the little details of the simple flower because if I allow my mind to wander, the big details, the ugly details, the details that I wish didn't belong to my life, will fill my mind instead.

  
     I watch as a tiny ant crawls out of one of the hollow, pink clover petals. With a deep sigh, I get up. I've been out here since dawn and it's now nearly noon. It's time to go back home. Walking with my hands in my jacket pockets, I make my way back to where the town used to be. I always expect to see the loose area in the fence that I would crawl through. It's no longer there. Instead, there is a gate in the chain-link fence. A gate that although always fastened, is never locked.

     As I walk into where the town was, I avoid thinking about how it looked right after the bombing. There had been a thick blanket of ash covering the ground, with bones and bodies scattered everywhere. Now, the ash is gone, thanks to reconstruction crews and the elements. Where once stood the ruins of District 12, skeletal frames for new houses and shops now stand. It has been busy in 12.

     The new government decided to help rebuild it, allowing those who had survived the bombing a chance to live in their original home once it's complete. Not only that, but the government decided that since coal was not a real necessity, what with the multitude of alternate energy sources, District 12 will now be the nation's producer of medicine instead. Where once stood the coal-processing plant, there is now the makings of a large pharmacuetical lab. Yes, District 12 has changed tremendously since it was bombed two years ago.

  
     I'm now entering the Victor's Village. It's the only place in 12 where the original buildings were unscathed. I walk past Peeta's, then Haymitch's house. Greasy Sae is waiting for me on my porch. "Ready to eat, Hon?" She asks as I walk up the steps. I give a slight smile and nod. Now that I think about it, I realize I haven't eaten yet today. I don't know why. Normally I bring something with me on my daily dawn walk. "Food's in the pot. Finished cooking a few minutes ago," says Sae. I walk in, hang up my father's leather hunting jacket and pull off my boots. I walk towards the back of the house, into the kitchen. I stop. I see a sight that's quite normal, but I'm nevertheless surprised. Peeta is sitting at my kitchen table, waiting for me. We often eat lunch together, but I had seen smoke coming from his chimney and smelled baking bread when I had come into the Village. I had assumed he was busy baking and that we wouldn't be eating together.

  
     "Why didn't Sae tell me you were in here?" I ask as Peeta gets up and walks over to me. We're both smiling, and I know I smile even more as he hugs me. "I asked her not to tell. I wanted to surprise you. Not very easy when you and I make up half of the residents of this place. That's why I even rigged my house to make you think I was over there. I'll tell why after lunch."

  
    I let go and walk over to the pot over the fire. Inside is stew. It's venison though, not lamb. Lamb is not common game in the woods of 12. Deer, now those I can hunt any day. I ladle out stew into two bowls, then we sit down across from each other. When we've finished eating, I look at Peeta with raised eyebrows.

  
     "Well, I'm surprised. Now, why did you want to surprise me?" Peeta swallows the last of his stew, then gives me a melancholy smile. "Don't you think you deserve something special today? Katniss, it's May eighth." I stare at him, blankly. What does this have to do with me? What's so special about May eighth? Then it suddenly dawns on me. I give a sharp intake of breath, and close my eyes. Peeta has reminded me what today is, but I also realize that its meaning had completely changed. It's my nineteenth birthday.

  
     First I'm in disbelief that I'd forgotten. Today is the the first time I have have a birthday without the Hunger Games a part of my life. No tessarae to take out. No increase of unlucky odds. No games next month. No Capitol, no threats, no Snow. It should no longer be tainted with anxiety. Then I remember why I don't really care to remember my birthday anymore. It's because those I would share it with are gone now.

  
     Father is long dead. Gale is in District 2 helping their district's government branch. Mother is in District 4, working as a nurse in their hospital. Prim. Oh, how my heart aches the most as I realize that for the first time since she was born when I was three years old, I will have my birthday without her there with me. I won't ever have her there with me again. Prim is dead.


	2. Chapter 2

     Before I get lost in the memory of her death being announced, the video that they had shown me of her in the Capitol getting caught by the bomb explosion, I shake my head and open my eyes. "Oh, yeah. You're right. How could I have forgotten?" I give a little laugh to try to cover the ache that's entering my chest. It's not the sharp, splitting pain it was months ago. It's dull now, just an ache, but it's an ache any memory of Prim will always bring back. After all, broken hearts can be mended, but they will always be scarred.

     Peeta shakes his head sadly. He gets up, comes around to the other side of the table, and sits down next to me on the bench. "You're still a terrible liar," he says as he wraps his arms around me. He rests my head on his chest, his hand stroking my hair. "I know your birthday makes you think about those you lost. It's okay to hurt about it. Remember though, you have a spring birthday. Spring means fresh starts, new beginnings. It doesn't matter how cold and bitter the winter was, spring comes eventually with warmth, green, song, flowers, and new life. You'll be okay. It won't be as bad as you think it will be. I promise."

     I twist myself so that I can look into his face. "You paint pictures with words just as well as you do with a paintbrush," I say softly. He looks intently into my eyes. "We both lost a lot Katniss. However, we don't have to let that break us." He gently pulls away, then takes my hand and we stand up together. We step away from the table, then Peeta stops. He turns arounds so that he is directly in front of me. I look questioningly into his beautiful blue eyes. He takes a deep breath. Then he says, "Katniss, you know that I love you. We have no Capitol now. Snow can't dictate what we must and must not do anymore. So now, I want to ask you something again. I've asked it before. This time though, it's for real, and I want the answer to be real." My breathing quickens and becomes shallow. My heart begins to race. If I'm wrong about what's going to come next, I have never known Peeta Mellark. Holding both my hands in his two large, strong ones, Peeta sinks down to one knee and looks up at me through his golden eyelashes.

     "Katniss, can we live this new beginning, this spring in Panem's history, together? Katniss Everdeen, will you marry me?" "I love you Peeta. Yes, I'll marry you." Tears are beginning to course down my cheeks. They are a mixture of happiness, loss, and relief. I nod my head. "Yes, of course I'll marry you. I love you." Why shouldn't I say yes? We love each other. I realized in the Quarter Quell that I love Peeta just as much as he loves me, and I can't live without him. Especially not now. With Snow dead, the Capitol government ended, and the Hunger Games abolished, I have no reason to refuse him. Peeta smiles so brightly. Then he's pulling me down to him and kissing away my tears as I let myself be wrapped in the embrace of my fiancé.

     Soon Peeta is helping me to my feet. "Come on, your surprise isn't over yet." We walk out my front door hand in hand. Peeta looks back to Greasy Sae and nods. She follows us as we walk to Peeta's house. Peeta makes me turn my back to the door. I hear Sae open it and go in. "I'm going to cover your eyes. Then you can turn around and go in," says Peeta, with a hint of playfullness in his voice. He places his large, warm hand over my closed eyes. With the other he gently guides me into his house. He walks behind me, careful to warn me that we'll be turning after a few steps. We go down the hall, and Peeta has me turn left, which means he's led me to the sitting room. He slowly takes his hand away and whispers into my ear, "Open your eyes, Katniss."


	3. Chapter 3

     I'm overwhelmed by what I see. Haymitch, clean and sober for once sits in a chair across the room from me. That's not the surprise though. It's who is with Haymitch that is the surprise. They are sitting in chairs next to him and standing behind him. I stare at the faces, momentarily in shock as my mind tries to process what's before my eyes. In chairs on either side of Haymitch sit my mother, and Annie Odair with a baby boy a few months old in her arms. Behind them stand Finnick Odair, Hazelle, Rory, Posey, and Vick. Most surprising of all is my old prep team- Octavia, Flavius, and Venia. Before I know what I'm doing, I'm rushing into Mother's arms, and crying for the second time today. All of the sudden after over a year of separation, never expecting to see these people again, they are all here in 12.

     Mother takes a handkerchief and wipes my eyes. "Happy birthday, Katniss," she says giving me a melancholy smile. I'm still overwhelmed and confused. I look back at Peeta, then at everyone else. "But, how, I mean, all of you live so far away, and I thought..." I trail off and look at Peeta again, my face pleading an explanation. Peeta looks so pleased. "Haymitch helped me. I couldn't have done it without him." I look at Haymitch, who has a very smug expression on his face. "Peeta convinced me to help him give you a birthday surprise, Sweetheart. So I made a few calls, pulled a few strings, and got it so that all your friends and family could be here without any problem." I impulsively go over and give Haymitch a hug. "Thank you," I whisper hoarsely. "Really, thank you." Haymitch seems very uncomfortable. He awkwardly pays me on the back. "Don't get silly about this. It was all Peeta's idea. Don't go making a scene," he says quietly. I can tell he's just pretending to be annoyed though.

     Now Greasy Sae is walking in with a beautiful cake. Everyone immediately gathers around me and Sae. Annie looks at me. "Katniss, your mother asked me to sing the song we sing in 4 on birthdays. I hope you don't mind." I smile. "No, of course not. Please, do sing it," I say softly. Mother and Peeta are on either side of me holding me tight. Annie passes the baby to Finnick, closes her eyes and begins singing.

"Crystal waves touch the shore,

we will love you ever more.

As each year passes,

you begin again.

Let the waves lift you high,

reach out to touch the sky,

we will brave the storms hand in hand.

Believe in yourself, and those who love you

and you'll find your way to the shore."

     Annie finishes singing and I hug her. It's hard not to cry what with all the kindness being shown to me by everyone.

     For those hours of celebrating together it feels like I have a family again. Much bigger than my real family, but it feels like family. Mother and Annie are talking easily with each other. Mother tells me that she and Annie spend a lot of time together in 4. Venia, Flavius, and Octavia amuse everyone with their enthusiasm and bubbliness. They say they haven't had this much fun since my engagement party in the Capitol. Rory, Vick, and Posey are playing, with Peeta, who seems happy to entertain them. I find myself talking with Finnick as we eat the cake Peeta made for me.

     "What have you been up to Katniss?" Finnick asks me. "I've been living. Putting myself back together. You were right. It is ten times as hard as breaking. Peeta helps a lot though. Of course, I have to help Peeta sometimes too, but he's not the one who sinks so easily into depression. It's been a lot easier the past two months though. It will be even easier once the town is finished. Then 12 will feel like home again." I give him one of his flirty smiles. "What about yourself Odair? Looks like you've been busy these last few months." Finnick points happily to the sleeping baby in Annie's arms. "That little boy is the best thing that ever happened to me and Annie. He keeps our minds off of everything the Capitol did to us. We don't have room to think about much else except him."

     Saying this, Finnick looks down at the robotic left arm that he received after being attacked by lizards mutts in the Capitol sewers during the war. "It's hard to even remember I have this, even when I'm holding him. All I see is this beautiful little boy who is out of harm's way. He'll never go into an arena, never go through the hell and more his mother and I went through. It makes the scars and arm completely worth it." I smile at him and look at little Aidan. It makes me happy knowing Finnick and Annie have finally found happiness and healing.


	4. Chapter 4

     The day has quickly slipped by. I'm still so shocked my mother is here that I keep looking over at her every five minutes. I know why she doesn't want to live in 12 anymore, the pain is too much. Too many lost loved ones. Not just father and Prim, but the rest of her parents and siblings as well. she still loved them, despite being disowned for marrying a coal miner. So for her to have set foot in 12 again astounds me.

     Peeta walks up behind me. Light from the setting sun is pouring through the windows, causing him to cast a large, dark shadow over me. "Katniss, can I talk with you for a minute?" he whispers into my ear. "In the kitchen?" I get up and follow him. Nothing seems to be predictable today. Not in the ordinary way at least. What does Peeta want to talk with me about that it has to be in private?

     He shuts the door behind us. Turning to face me, he runs his fingers through his hair, like he's trying to figure out how to put his words. Since when does Peeta have a hard time knowing what to say? I look at him expectantly. His eyes shift from me to the floor, from the floor to the ceiling, never remaining in one spot for more than a few seconds. He's clenching and unclenching his fists, and shifting his weight from one foot to the other. I haven't seen him this agitated in almost a year. What could have possibly happened? "Peeta?" I'm hesitant to find out what's set him so on edge. Not only am I unsure I want to know what has ruined Peeta's good mood, but I'm concerned as well. Should he bring up his heart and respiration rate much more, he could quite possibly trigger a flashback, which wouldn't be the greatest way to end the day.

     Peeta sighed. "Katniss...someone's here to see you. I didn't really invite them because I figured it would upset you. I am not letting them in unless you okay it. I will personally escort them to the train station should you not want them here." Someone is here. Peeta doesn't want them here, or doesn't think it will make me happy anyway. Who...Gale. It must be Gale.

     Trembling, I shut my eyes. No! Why do I have to face my demons now? My heart screams he started playing by Snow's rule book when he designed a bomb that would kill medics. He wanted to condemn people to death in the Nut, bury them alive. My sister is now dead due to a bomb he designed. How can he care anymore? However, my brain tells me he was manipulated like me, just a piece in yet another game, but this one to bring down the Capitol. How could he have known Coin would use a design she had supposedly rejected? Can I really blame him for doing everything he could to try and destroy a government that held the blame for every hardship his family, and every other family in Panem, had gone through? Gale had always been the bitter, fiery one. Calculating, snaring, and killing. He'd done it for years. Why would he see it differently when made a soldier of District 13. Killing is the job of a soldier.

     I snap my eyes open. Avoiding him isn't going to change what has happened in the past. Seeing Gale could help me forgive him. Maybe he's been hurting as much as I was this past year. Peeta's watching me. He's trying to decipher what's going through my mind, but his body is tense. I take a deep breath, I need to be calm. The last thing I need is to have to deal with Gale at my door along with a highjacking relapse. "Go ahead. Let him in." I try to make my voice even, without making it flat. Peeta's right when he says I'm a horrendous liar. "You're sure about this?" I nod slowly. "Yes Peeta. I'm sure. Let Gale come in."


	5. Chapter 5

     Peeta walks to the back door of the kitchen. Opening it, he calmly informs Gale he's allowed to come in. There is a creaking of wood, accompanied by the thud of boots on the steps, and Gale is now standing in the doorway. Stepping forward, he seems almost reluctant to come in, afraid of me, yet at the same time, determined. Determined to do what though, I don't know.

     "Hi Catnip." Those two words, the ones I've heard since I was eleven years old, haven't lost their conveyance of friendship. They're not spoken with hostility, or bitterness, or want. No, maybe there is want, but I don't think it's what it used to be. I'm trying really hard to forget what happened the last two times I was in a kitchen here in 12 with Gale. I hope his is too. Because it will never happen again. Those were the last times I will ever willingly and conciously kiss Gale Hawthorne.

     "Hey Gale," I manage to reply. We stand there in awkward silence, Peeta looking on. "You know what, I just remembered something I needed to do," Peeta says breaking the silence. "I'll leave you two to get...reacquainted, so to speak." He walks casually out of the kitchen, giving me a slightly concerned glance as he passes by. Gale leans against the counter, his brows knitted together, his eyes downcast. "What are you here for Gale?" I ask. He looks up, putting a small smile on his face. "Well, it is your birthday, and my memory hasn't gone bad or anything." I frown slightly at this. Could he be insulting Peeta, or me? He rolled his eyes, noticing my displeasure. "I didn't mean that in a bad way Katniss, lighten up. I'm not here to be the bad guy." He looked back down at the floor. "I've already felt like one for the past year." I can't think of what to say to that. He looks back up, pain in his eyes.

     "Katniss, please tell me you don't still blame me for what happened to Prim, please. I wish every day I'd never thought of those damn bombs, that I could just take it back. I have nightmares about it, every night. Prim's screaming my name, pleading for the children's lives, then the second bomb goes off, and she's screaming in pain, and then...she's gone." Did Gale just say he wih he'd never designed the bombs? "I've been living with the guilt of Prim's death for almost a year. And with the knowledge that my best friend hates me for having a part in it." He looks away. "I can understand if you still do. But please, if you don't, tell me. I can't live with both burdens."

     How do I answer to this? How do I even know if I blame him still? I blame the bombs, and therefore by default blame him, but I also blame Coin, and the Capitol, and the need for the rebellion. The tension of being torn two ways is too much. I'm starting to tremble with my inner struggle. "Katniss?" Gale's voice is full of concern, but he keeps his distance. I try to think of what Gale's gone through, and I realize it's similar to what I've gone through. Every death that I've had a part in, haunts me, and makes me wish I could have prevented it, done something differently. I know what's it like to be tormented at night by the people who have lost their lives because of something I did. I still struggle with many of them.

     Peeta keeps trying to convince me I can't blame myself for every death that happened during the rebellion, that most gave their lives willingly for the sake of freedom, and that all the deaths are to be blamed on the Capitol for making a rebellion necessary. Then I realize, the same applies to Gale. How many times did I see in the games and rebellion that not everything is black and white? Too often things are blurred, smeared, undefinable. I can't say that I wish he'd never thought of those bombs, I hate them with all I am. However, I can no longer say I hate him for what happened.

     "I don't hate you Gale. You did what you thought was right at the time. I can't blame you for something that in the end is Coin's doing," I say quietly. "And I know Prim meant a lot to you, too. I know what it's like, to feel the guilt of lives being lost, and you feel as if you only have yourself to blame for it. So no, I don't hate you." His sigh of relief quavers, like he's been trying to keep himself together. "Thanks," he whispers. We just stand there for a minute, letting the closure, the forgiveness, hang in the air for a minute. Finally, he looks back at me and asks, "So...how are things going with you and Mellark?" I cock an eyebrow warily.

     "Why do you want to know?" He shakes his head. "I'm just asking. Trust me, I know I lost that battle a long time ago. You never loved me like you did him. I was just the big brother, I should have seen that and stuck with it instead of trying to make it into something more." I realize he's finally described how my live for Gale worked. He's right, we were best friends, siblings practically, rather than pretend cousins or assumed lovers. I shrug. "You really want to know? You're not just trying to sneakily find out if you might still have a chance?"

     "Catnip, I mean it. I want you to be happy, to have what will make you happy. If that's Peeta, I'm okay with that now. You deserve to be happy now more than most people." I look at him, slightly surprised. He's changed in the past year. Then again, who am I to talk of being changed? "We're doing...good." Gale gets that concerned sound in his voice again. "You don't sound too confident about it. Why? Is he having episodes again?" I quickly shake my head. "No, no, he's been really good. He hasn't had a full out flashback in over six months. It's just...he proposed to me today...and I said yes."


	6. Chapter 6

     Gale gives me a small smile, raising his eyebrows slightly. "Really?" I look at Gale quizzically. "Yes," I answer slowly. "Does that..bother you?" Gale smiles more, shaking his head. "No. I'm just surprise that it took him this long to ask you." I shrug, trying to avoid blushing. "He just wanted to wait I guess," I say quietly. Gale nods slowly. "So when are you having your toasting?" I look at my boots uncomfortably. "I don't know. We didn't really talk about everything." A few awkward, silent moments pass between us. Looking up finally, I smile at Gale. "The rest of your family is in the sitting room, come on." I gesture and lead him to the room where everyone else is still gathered.

     "Gale!" Posy shrieks, jumping up from the floor where she'd been drawing flowers with Peeta. "Gale's here! Gale's back!" Running towards him, Posy crashes into his outstretched arms. "Gale!" Rory and Vick both shout, and then tackle their older brother, landing in a laughing heap on top of Posy and Gale. "Get off!" Posy says, her voice muffled. "I can't breathe!" Laughing, Gale pushes them off. "Me either. What a welcome, near death by suffocation." Vick grins mischievously. "You asked for it! We haven't seen you in over a year!" Gale raised an eyebrow. "You watch the new government propos don't you?" Rory rolled his eyes. "That does  _not_  count Gale." Sitting up, Gale shoves his brother lightly. "Of course it does, your eyes still work don't they?" Rory punched him on the shoulder. "Yeah, they do, but propos seriously don't count doofus. We mean like now, with you actually right here in front of us." Rory is stopped from objecting further by a warning glance from his mother. Gale shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. "I've been busy. Sorting through stuff," he says nonchalantly. I wonder if that could have a double meaning. As in not only had he been busy with getting Panem's new government up and running, but if he also meant that on a personal level. I wouldn't doubt it, considering the change I see in him. This isn't the same Gale as the one I knew during the Rebellion.

     Finnick nods at Gale in greeting, a smirk on his face. "So how goes it with you Odair?" questions Gale from the floor, where a smug-looking Posy has made it her solemn duty to seat herself on her brother's lap so that he can't leave without a fight. "Never been better. That's the honest to goodness truth." Gale nodded and saw Annie holding little Aidan. "Been busy I bet." Finnick shook his head, chuckling. "And when are any of us not busy these days? Things are moving quickly in Panem."  _I'm not busy Finnick. I'm not busy at all._ Despite the rebirth that District 12 has been going through, I have not really become an "active citizen". I can hardly consider sitting around, hunting for the Village, and spending time with Peeta being busy. It affects no one but those here, those I care about. I'm not trying to affect the entire country, or make an impressive change. No, those pursuits died with the Mockingjay. And if I have anything to say about it, they are going to be buried deeper than the deepest mine, deeper than the furthest level of 13. Never again will I be more than Katniss Everdeen. I've seen what happens when I try to be more than I really am. I never want to go down that path again.


	7. Chapter 7

     The conversations in the room eventually died out as the sun slipped behind the edge of the horizon. A hand touched my shoulder, and I turned my head to see my mother. "We'll be seeing you tomorrow," she said quietly, a small smile on her lips. "Where are you going?" She brushed the question away. "The Hawthorne family and I will be staying in an empty victor house. Same for your Capitol friends." I frown slightly. "You could just stay with me." She shook her head firmly. "No. No, I can't go back there." The walled up sadness in her eyes is all the explanation I need for that statement. I nod, looking at her understandingly. "Alright. I guess I'll see you tomorrow then." She brushes her hand along my arm, and walks out of the house with everyone else.

     I sink onto the couch, rubbing my face. Peeta comes over and sits next to me, and I rest my head against his shoulder. "It was nice to see everyone," he said in a cheerful, quiet voice. "You had a good time, right?" I groan a laugh in response. "Too many people at once, I'm exhausted," I mumble. Peeta kissed the top of my head, chuckling. "Oh come on it wasn't that bad!" I nod tiredly. "You're right, but it still wore me out. We haven't been around that many people in over a year." He sighed disappointedly.

     "You should probably head to your place then and go to bed." I tilt my head up to get a glimpse of his face, still resting against his shoulder as I do so. "Can't I stay with you tonight?" Peeta gave a wan smile. "Katniss, it's probably better if you go to your place to sleep, what with everyone here. They might make more of you sleeping over than it really is." I wrinkle my nose at the thought. "You're right," I grumbled. "See you tomorrow then," I said as I stood, brushing a quick kiss against his cheek as I did.

     The short walk to my house seemed to take longer than usual. As I got ready for bed, I ran through the day in my head. My name is Katniss Everdeen. Today I turned 19 years old. I am now engaged to Peeta Mellark. Peeta suprised me with a party. Gale Hawthorne and I have started to try and rebuild our friendship.

     Crawling into bed, I snuggle down under the covers, trying to now clear my head, and fall asleep without having the nightmares. Sometimes it helps, clearing my head. Other times it's as if I opened the door for the darkest corners of my imagination. Thankfully, I passed the night peacefully, without any near-heart attacks from the terrifying dreams that usual fill my nights.


	8. Chapter 8

     A shuffling sound in my room wakes me. Back when I was so depressed and all I wanted to do was lay around, Peeta or Sae more often than not would take it upon themselves to wake me and drag me out of bed. Now though, I wake myself just fine. So who on earth is in here? "Oh! She's awake!" a high-pitched voice squeals in my ear. Granted, it was obvious the speaker attempted to keep their voice low. Nevertheless, it was most certainly a squeal. And the speaker, who was leaned over me and accompanied by two other faces, was Octavia.

     I bite back a scream of frustration. I had thought my days of having my bedroom and privacy invaded were officilally gone. So why, as if in another nightmare, am I waking up to my prep team's faces? Supressing the urge to snap at them, I ask in as happy a tone as I can muster, "What are you three doing in here? And so early?" They all titter, as if I asked a silly question. I find nothing amusing in wanting to know what I owe this unwarranted bedroom invasion to. "Why Katniss darling, we're here to get you ready for your wedding of course!"

     My sleep-fogged brain must not be thinking straight. That, or those vile Capitol doctors did not repair my ear as good as I thought they did because I could have sworn I just heard myself and wedding in the same sentence. Blinking rapidly, I give my head a quick shake, attemping to rid myself of the last vestiges of sleep. "My what? That's funny, I thought I heard you say wedding," I say, forcing a chuckle. Flavius cocks his head in puzzlement. "That's amusing? That's exactly what she said." Then he shrugged and laughed, apparently trying to join in on the joke.

     Throwing my legs off the side of the bed, I stand and walk towards the door. "Of course, of course, silly me. You know what, just let me go see about something really quick and then we can get started." Venia gives her hands two sharp claps, a broad smile on her face. "Excellent! Come now, let's get the bathroom in shape for when Katniss comes back." As soon as they were in my bathroom, no doubt about to transform it into a beautifying torture chamber, I bolt downstairs. Without bothering about shoes, I throw on my jacket and rush outside.

     I make it to Peeta's house in what is surely record time. There I find Haymitch, sitting on the porch with the hint of a smug smile on his lips. "What the hell is that?" I ask through gritted teeth, pointing towards my house. Haymitch bends forward, peering to see what it is I'm pointing to. He cocks an eyebrow at me. "Been hit in the head? That's a house, sweatheart, you oughta know that by now," he says, not hiding his enjoyment of my mood. "Not the house, what's in it! Why in the name of everything is my old prep team, in my house, claiming they're going to get me ready for my wedding?" I growl at him.

     Haymitch looks at me like he's expecting me to add to this. "Well? What on earth is going on here?" Haymitch shrugged, looking as smug as ever. "You're getting married." I scoff. "Now? Since when did I say that was happening now?" Haymitch shrugged unimpressed by my reaction. "Since you wanted to avoid a full-out, media covered wedding ceremony." I narrow my eyes at him, frowning. "What are you talking about?" "I'm talking about the fact that unless you and Peeta hurry up and get hitched already, you are going to get dragged into a big fat media mess."

     I shake my head, still frowning. "Why would they all of the sudden take interest in us again?" Haymitch sighed with exasperation. "They never lost interest, you're still the victors of District 12, you're still the girl who was the Mockingjay," he explains as if I'm half-witted. "But the war is over, we're scarred mentally and physically, I'm restricted to 12, why are they suddenly going to be butting in and controlling my life again?" Haymitch rolled his eyes. "Because you make good tv, that's why! I don't know how they found out, we used multiple trusted people passing it along to avoid getting found out, but somehow someone learned I helped Peeta get you a ring. Now, the media is breathing down my neck with this new "freedom of the press" garbage, and if they get their way and get permits to come down here, it will only be a matter of time before you're manipultated inot a televised Capitol wedding, believe me."

     "So it's basically forced," I spit out bitterly. "No, it's real enough, I mean you said yes to the boy before this crap came up, it's just...rushed. I wish it didn't have to be. Honest, Katniss. It's just, unavoidable if you want to stay out of Panem's eye." "I am feeling extremely manipulated." Haymitch looks me in the eye. "This is the more preferable option, sweetheart. You already have your family and your friends here, you can have them attend your wedding that you hold on your own terms. The only way the Capitol isn't going to take this as a way to gain back a lost oppurtunity for the story of the millenium, is if you take away the climax before they can get their paws on it...Come to think of it, I think one of those prep idiots was raving about how paws are trending there. Disgusting." I want to yell that this is all his fault, but I don't. Instead, I turn around and walk stiffly back to my house. "I hate you most when you're right," I call bad-temperedly over my shoulder. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, just don't let those giggling twits take forever dolling you up."


	9. Chapter 9

     "Oh dear, all these split ends," Flavius exclaims. "What have I told you about conditioning?" "Katniss, your nails! Why there's nothing left to them, honestly biting them doesn't do them a bit of good." "Oh heavens, your eyebrows!" No, I didn't miss having every inch of my body being critiqued this past year. I didn't miss it one, little bit. I think part of the reason they've fallen to their old areas of concern, however, is because they are trying to hide the sadness they feel about my scars. Time has allowed them to fade, and additional treatment finally allowed the skin grafts to resemble real skin, but it's probably as painfully obvious to them as it is to me, these people who probably know the details of my physicality as well I do, that I no longer have the flawless body the Capitol created after the 74th Games. I had literally become the girl on fire during the rebellion, and it's painfully apparent to us all when I'm sitting there in my short-sleeved shirt.

     "No fancy make-up," I state firmly as they begin washing my hair and body. "But I thought we might-" "No. No nail polish, no fake eyelashes, no sparkles. Nothing." All three sigh dejectedly. I don't want to even begin imagining what sort of fright they wanted to turn me into. "The natural look we used for the propos will be just fine." Flavius makes as if to protest, but thinks better of it from the look I give him. A few minutes later, as their drying out my hair, "Katniss...what about just eyeliner? Just brown eyeliner, nothing fancy. Just enough to highlight your eyes? Please?" I sigh inwardly. "We can do that. As long as it's simple." Flavius beams like happy toddler. They're so simple really. It's difficult to stay annoyed with them when they can't help being how they are. Not only that, but they've certainly changed since I first met them. I think the Quarter Quell really started opening their eyes. Old habits die hard however, and Flavius is still one to enjoy lavish makeup, despite the slightly toned-down appearance they all have.

     I don't let them take too long with making me look good, and not just because Haymitch said so. If it weren't for the fact that I hate being prepped, I'd make them take all day just to spite him. It's not simply because I don't want to spend all day in this bathroom, but I feel like their efforts are wasted. I'm no longer capable of being beautiful. Not with these scars, not with the kind of person I am. I've been told by everyone I need to stop blaming myself, that I am doing myself an injustice, that I can't live like this, that these scars are honorable. Some days I believe them, and I will tell myself the same thing, but other days I lapse and can't get all the dead faces out of my head. Thankfully, those days occur considerably less than they used to. Giving people the wrong impression of who I am isn't something I want to be doing, and I simply don't feel like making me look glamorous is honest. These thoughts would probably get me a long lecture on why I shouldn't think like that from Peeta, but what he doesn't know won't hurt him.

     Two hours later, I'm standing in front of the mirror in a slip, my hair done up in a curly bun. The morning light spilling pouring through my bedroom window is warm against my skin as I stand there waiting. Venia had led the others out once they were finished with me, and I had been instructed to wait here while they fetched my dress. My protests that I would much rather wear one of my simple dresses were immediately shot down. "Trust me, you'll want to wear this dress," she had stated, not really meeting my eye when she did. So I gave up and just stood there, inspecting their work while waiting for her to come back. They had done a good job using some sort of liquid foundation to blend most of the scars in with the rest of my skin, and I was absentmindedly toying with a loose curl they had left down when my ears caught the sound of someone's quiet tread on the steps. Then my bedroom door was opened, slowly at first, as if the person was hesitant to come in. Carrying a garment bag, in stepped my mother.

     Glancing at me shyly, she set the bag on my bed, carefully unzipping it. "This was made for you along with the gowns for the photo shoot. Cinna kept it apart from the others though, it wasn't fancy enough to be used, but he felt it was what fit you the most. He hid it away here, if you ever should get the opportunity and wanted to use it." My breath catches in my throat at the mention of my stylist, my wonderful, stupidly brave stylist, who made me the Girl on Fire, the Mockingjay. I look down to the dress, and cannot help but smiling a little. Despite having been someone from the Capitol, Cinna understood me so well, sometimes I think more than I do myself.

     The dress that my mother has brought to me is extremely simple, satin with smooth outlines, short sleeves, a high scoop-neck, with a length that reaches mid-calf. Unlike the other gowns, this one is not ivory or white, but is instead a creamy, light grey. The same color as mockingjay chick down, I think to myself without even realizing it. It's still a mockingjay wedding dress. I can never truly lose that identity, but this dress isn't something symbolic, to convey a message. It's simply meant to be worn by me, nothing more. I can think of no better way to thank Cinna for everything he did for me, saving my skin in so many ways, than to wear this dress today. "Will you help me get it on?" I ask quietly. She gives a hint of a smile and nods, murmuring, "Put your arms up Katniss."


End file.
